The Magic of Recluce

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Then she leaned forward and gave me a friendly kiss. “I’m glad you came. Relax if you can.”

  The kiss was just friendly, but as she turned and left she smiled, and I wondered.

  Besides wondering, I washed my hands and face, trying not to use all the water or make too much of a mess. Although curious, I did not look at any of the papers on the desk in her bedroom.

  Instead, I sat down on the long couch, except that I was tired, and I was not sitting and thinking for long.

  Click!

  “I see you waited.” Krystal’s voice was cheerfully brisk, but I had trouble appreciating it, since I was trying to wake up from the afternoon nap I hadn’t expected to take, realizing that it was nearly twilight.

  “Long… meeting…” I yawned between words and struggled to my feet.

  “There are too many long meetings these days. Will you be all right for dinner?”

  “I just have to wake up. I sat down and… then you were back here.”

  Her lips quirked, and I could see a few gray hairs among the black as she stepped nearer. “Lerris…” Then, she shook her head. “Later. I need to change, and you need to get into something-”

  “A little less travel-worn?”

  “Do you have something?”

  “It’s plain, but I left my bags in the stable.”

  “I’ll send-”

  This time I shook my head. “They won’t find them.”

  “I see. You have learned a few things.” Her tone was light.

  “So have you, lady, I expect.”

  “Herreld is waiting outside. Have him escort you there and back. We’ll worry about a bed for you later. You can change here for dinner, if that’s all right.”

  The word “dinner” disoriented me, after more than a year of hearing dinner as the noon meal, but I recovered and nodded. “No. Whatever’s easiest.”

  Krystal was already heading for the door, and I followed, and just kept going, straight for the stable to recover my pack and better clothes, such as they were.

  LXI

  “THIS DOORWAY.” KRYSTAL inclined her head toward a carved entrance flanked by two green-clad guards. She wore her sword. She probably slept with it.

  Only the guards’ eyes moved, checking me out, but I had left the staff in Krystal’s quarters. I decided to wear the empty knife sheath, since in some principalities, failure to wear a knife carried certain implications. I didn’t remember if Kyphros were one, but if it weren’t, no one would care one way or the other. If my pack and staff weren’t safe in Krystal’s quarters, they weren’t safe anywhere in Kyphrien.

  “This is a small dinner. The autarch wanted to hear of your adventures.” She guided me into the room.

  A state dining room it was not. The imperial-style black-oak table was covered with a green linen cloth bordered in gold. The utensils were silver, and the plates were of a china nearly as fine as my mother’s best. The “informal” dining room was not much bigger than my parents’ dining room, nor much larger than the dining area of the waystation where I had eaten lamb chili two days earlier.

  A good dozen wall lamps provided a brightness not often seen at an evening meal in Candar. I supposed the autarch could afford the extra lamp-oil.

  We stopped almost after entering the room, and well short of the six people who stood talking by the bay window on the other side of the table, a window that overlooked Kyphrien and the scattered lights of the lamps and torches of the city.

  “Krystal.” The woman in the green silk jumpsuit with black hair shot with gray spoke.

  Krystal inclined her head. “Honor.”

  “Would you introduce your friend?”

  “This is Lerris.” Krystal named the six. “Her Honor the Autarch; Guard Commander Ferrel; Public Works Minister Zeiber; Liessa, sister to Her Honor; Finance Minister Murreas; and Father Dorna.”

  “Honor,” I murmured to the autarch. “I am honored to meet all of you.” In a way, I was.

  “Krystal said you were young,” observed the younger woman who looked like the autarch, except her black hair was without the graying streaks. “I wouldn’t have guessed from her description.” The comment was made with a smile.

  The Public Works Minister, thin and white-haired, only nodded, as did the Finance Minister, a heavy-set woman with square-cut short white hair who wore an ornate green tunic over equally ornate trousers.

  “Peace,” was the only word from Father Dorna, a functionary in the religion of the one-god believers from his aura and garb of black, who radiated neither order nor disorder.

  Krystal still wore green, a plain green silk blouse with no frills and a high neck, the same green leather vest, and matching green trousers-cotton, I thought. She wore no jewelry, no rings, and she looked professional, like the autarch’s champion. She walked the same way, her eyes never quite at rest.

  The only one dressed more plainly than Krystal was me. My best clothes were the dark-brown cotton tunic and trousers made by Deirdre. Good as they were, certainly not of the quality of those worn by Krystal or the autarch.

  “We should be seated.” The autarch simply pulled out the chair at the head of the table, then pointed at the chair to her right. “Lerris, if you would.”

  Krystal took the seat across from me, and Father Dorna sat on my right. At the end of the table was Liessa, the only woman wearing a dress.

  I attempted to seat the autarch, but she avoided the question by seating herself before my hand more than touched the back of her chair.

  “No ceremony here. My name is Kasee.”

  I just nodded, not certain exactly what to say, as mixed greenery was placed on the plate in front of me.

  “Krystal says you know something of the reasons behind the apparently senseless attacks by the Gallians.”

  “Some few things,” I said, “and some few thoughts as to why.” Since the autarch began to question me before taking a bite of the greenery on her plate, I decided that, informal dinner or not, the main course was information, and the chef was a young man named Lerris.

  I looked at Krystal. While I thought I saw a momentary twinkle in her eye, her expression was polite and impassive.

  “Does the name Antonin mean anything?”

  “… devil…” That came from my right, from the priest.

  “He is reputed to be a white wizard who lives in the West-horns,” responded the autarch. I didn’t think of her as Kasee then, no matter what she had said.

  “He is a white wizard. He has allied himself with the prefect, or spends so much time in Fenard that he might as well be allied.”

  “What does he supply, exactly, to this alliance?” asked Ferrel, the white-haired Guard Commander, whose words were as precise as her plain green tunic. She and Krystal were the sole diners visibly armed.

  “Chaos…”

  “In what form, if you will? What does he gain from it?”

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t have all the answers… but…” I continued before the Guard Commander asked yet another question, “he opened a chaos-fountain in the guard quarters in Fenard. The fountain had the effect of submerging reason, since reason is a function of order. The fountain made the soldiers more obedient to commands issued with a-I guess you’d say-chaos-link. I mean, they’re more likely to fight and kill blindly.”

  I could feel Krystal’s concern behind her impassive face.

  “How did you discover this?”

  After forcing myself to take a sip from the crystal goblet and discovering it contained redberry, I answered. “I felt it from where I worked in Fenard. So I-well, it’s really not that simple. You see, if Krystal hasn’t told you, I left Recluce as a dangergelder. My charge was to reach the Westhorns and to make a decision as to whether I would serve order or chaos blindly. I had a… few problems… along the way…”

  No one commented. So I kept going. “When I got to Fenard, I needed time to think… and money. That was why I took up woodcrafting again while I tried to work things o
ut. The chaos in and around Fenard kept increasing, not so much that it was that noticeable at first. Antonin-his coach began appearing at the palace more and more. More and more cavalry troops were raised and sent against Kyphros. The quarterly tax levies were raised, doubled in fact.” I stopped and took another sip from the goblet, then used the fork on the greenery. Everyone else was eating. I could as well.

  “Could you explain the form of the chaos this… Antonin… used?” asked Ferrel.

  “I don’t know that I could name it, but it feels white with an ugly red core.” I sipped the redberry again. “And it chills me right through.”

  “You can feel it?” the priest demanded.

  “Any order-master could. That’s how strong he is.”

  The servant I barely saw began removing the empty salad plates. Mine was still mostly full. I took another bite.

  “Why is this any more dangerous than any other weapon - or the fires that the white wizards throw against our troops?” The Guard Commander was persistent.

  “Because it will destroy you from within,” I snapped, angry at her apparent denseness.

  “Ser…” Her voice hardened.

  “Ferrel.” The autarch’s voice was ice. Even I shut my mouth. She looked at me. “I suspect I know what you mean, order-master, but would you explain your last statement.”

  I swallowed, wondering if I could really put what I felt in words. “All right. Please excuse me if I’m not clear. You have to understand that much of this is new to me, and that very few masters this side of Recluce have been permitted to learn it…”

  “Permitted?”

  I ignored the question from the Finance Minister, figuring that only the autarch counted. “The strength of chaos is that destruction can be focused. Order cannot be concentrated in the same way. Likewise, order is a passive defense, in that chaos cannot destroy absolute order. Absolute order precludes chaos, but only by restricting its presence from where there is already order.”

  “… gobbledygook…”

  I ignored that also, trying to find the words. “What Antonin is doing is creating a greater potential for chaos in both countries. By sending out Gallian troops to their deaths, he increases anger in Gallos, both at the prefect and at Kyphros. He increases anger and disorder in Kyphros. By increasing disorder, he makes more people susceptible to chaos and less willing to abide by the rules of order, more willing to become part of the killing. I don’t know the complete link, but as the disorder increases, so do his powers.” My stomach twisted as. I began to realize what part I had unwittingly played in Antonin’s game.

  “I see.” The autarch’s voice was cold. “If you are correct, we cannot win. If we defend ourselves, we increase the disorder, and if we do not, we perish, and our suffering and deaths will thus increase the disorder.”

  I wished she had not put it that way.

  “Why has not mighty Recluce opposed this great white wizard?” asked Liessa, her voice cutting.

  Krystal looked at me. “Do you know?”

  I thanked her with my eyes for the direct question. “I do not know for certain the answer to that question. I do know that Recluce seldom meddles with nations other than the coastal trading powers.” Even that evasion turned my guts again.

  I was reprieved, momentarily, from more twisting by the arrival of the main course-skewered and highly-spiced lamb.

  “You are saying that this wizard has no real military aims at all, then?”

  “His aims are power for himself, and the white wizards who follow him. He would destroy both your countries, I think, to increase those powers.”

  “All of this is very theoretical and philosophical,” interjected the Public Works Minister. “Could you tell us what, specifically, you have done against this danger? If you have done anything besides observe, that is.”

  Instead of snapping at him, I chewed and swallowed the lamb cube in my mouth. If I were paying this highly for my meal, I deserved to eat some of it. The only problem was that no one else talked while I ate, and the silence was leaden. I ended up opening my mouth again after several more bites. “I have done what I could. I destroyed the chaos-fountain, and, although I did not mean to, also created the events that led to the death of a score or more of the prefect’s more chaos-ridden troops, including the sub-prefect.”

  “You did not mean to stop chaos?” demanded the priest in a high voice.

  I sighed. Explaining the intricacies was getting more and more dangerous, and I knew none of the people except Krystal. While not a one manifested chaos or disorder, they could easily order my death for less fantastic reasons.

  “You sound almost exasperated, young order-master,” observed the autarch. “Perhaps you could explain your feelings first.”

  Shrugging, I turned to her. She was the judge, anyway. “You have to understand that I am not from Kyphros, nor from Gallos. A crafter in Gallos took me in, and enabled me to learn more of both order and woodworking. The disorder threatened his family. I employed order to strengthen honestly his business and his health. I also, being what I am, could not but help embody some order in the chairs and cabinets and tables I produced.” I turned to Krystal. “Would you recall what occurs when a black staff strikes chaos?”

  She did not quite frown, but paused. “Doesn’t the staff burn someone possessed of disorder?”

  I nodded, then I grinned, looking around the table. “My first mistake was to craft some black-oak chairs for the sub-prefect. My second error was to make them as perfect as I could and to infuse them with order to strengthen them.”

  They all looked puzzled.

  “What do you think happened when the chaos-tainted advisors of the prefect sat in those chairs?”

  “Ha!”

  “Ohhhhh…”

  I nodded. “That meant I had to leave Gallos, but I could not leave the crafter unprotected. After all, the chairs would be traced in time to his shop. So I entered the palace in an attempt to do something-what, I was not sure. That didn’t work out because I found that attempting to force order on anyone unwilling to receive it is difficult at best. I ”did neutralize the chaos-fountain and turned it back into mere decoration. Then I left Fenard and came to Kyphros.“

  “Did you have anything to do with the death of the white wizard?” That question came from Ferrel. She sounded vaguely amused. Why, I couldn’t imagine.

  “That was a lucky accident.” I tried to stuff another lamb cube into my mouth before answering another question.

  “Accident?”

  “Well…” I mumbled, before gulping the piece of lamb. The meat burned and scraped all the way down my throat. “All I wanted to do was to let the two Kyphran captives free. But the wizard kept throwing white fire at me… and his fire and my staff collided too close to him.”

  “How did that happen?” Ferrel was almost smiling, I could have sworn.

  “I charged him…”

  “Do you have a warhorse, order-master? A charger?”

  “No. Just a pony.”

  Someone sniggered.

  Ferrel glared at Liessa, who paled. That surprised me. Then she turned to the autarch, who looked amused, rather than surprised, and added, “It sounds fantastic, but it happened that way. Except for one detail. No one saw our friend here. Is this yours?” She held up my belt knife.

  I nodded.

  “The unseen wizard who defeated the white wizard cut the bonds of my lieutenant, left the knife in her hands, and told her to cut the other captive free. She did not see the charge, but she did hear the white wizard screaming about an unseen armed man. She also saw the fire bolts striking against something until one exploded right in front of the wizard. Our friend here-or someone dressed exactly like him and riding a pony exactly like his-appeared for just an instant.”

  She handed me the knife, which I quickly replaced in the empty sheath.

  “You didn’t tell me all of that,” Krystal added dryly.

  I think I flushed. “It seemed pretty dumb. I ne
ver meant to take on a full white wizard. It just happened.”

  “What are you intending to do next?”

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” Except I did. So, of course, I had to tell them, or suffer indigestion. “I don’t have much choice. I have to go find Antonin.”

  “The Great White Wizard?”

  “Yes.”

  Ferrel looked at the autarch, and the autarch looked at Krystal. After that, they let me finish my dinner. I mean, what else was there to say? They did talk, finally, among themselves.

  “Has he always been this modest?” Ferrel smiled as she asked Krystal.

  “He was never boastful, but he seems more quiet.” •

  “I still don’t understand about Recluce.” The voice of the Finance Minister was sharp.

  “Perhaps the sub-commander or the order-master could answer your question,” suggested the autarch. “Krystal? We ought to let our guest have a few moments’ peace.”

  A wry look flashed across Krystal’s face before she spoke. “Recluce is governed by the Brotherhood. They are black order-masters. Recluce has always let chaos rule in any area outside Recluce unless the Brotherhood feels that chaos threatens or hurts Recluce. Anyone they think might ever create disorder must either leave or undergo a trial by exile to prove their commitment to the absolute order of Recluce.”

  “Everyone? Surely the children of the powerful…” questioned Murreas, the heavy-set Finance Minister.

  Krystal and I exchanged glances, an exchange noted by Kasee, although she said nothing.

  “No,” responded Krystal after a brief hesitation. “They are true believers. I know of a case where the son of one of the highest of the Brotherhood was exiled years earlier than any other child would have been, perhaps to prove that no one is above the law.”

  Liessa looked at me from the other end of the table and nodded nearly imperceptibly.

  Hell, all of Kyphros would know my history before I ever got out of Kyphrien, the way things were going, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.

  After the dinner came small cups of a hot mulled cider, along with a nut-filled pastry soaked in honey. It took my best behavior not to use my fingers to wipe up the last of the honey from the plate. I didn’t want to disgrace Krystal, but I’d had few sweets since leaving home, and hadn’t realized how much I had missed them.